For the last 48 hours it has been raining. Everywhere water is running. The track from the back door to the woodshed is a quagmire. The creek has broken…
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Today, at dawn I read a poem. Outside the world slowly lightened bleak white, snap frozen, still. The day warmed and I worked my way through it. Then…
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Last week, we had a few benign spring-like days. The frogs started singing. The evergreen clematis budded up overnight. A new pair of swallows arrived…
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It’s 5pm, the nearly the end of July and the dark is settling. The winter nights draw in like an old man hunched beneath the doona. I can see my breath…
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In When Women Were Birds (one of my favourite books) Terry Tempest Williams writes: It is the province of mothers to preserve the myth that we are…
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I’m sitting at my friend’s kitchen table. The Aga hums taking the edge off the cold that seeps in through the thin glass windows and around the gaps of…
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Yesterday I stood on the edge of the Murrumbidgee River. I watched it fat and brown and moving fast. Around me the air was thick with birds, among them…
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There’s a lamb in the garden. She’s been there all week. She had a belly full of worms and a drench came a few days late for her. She’d been down and…
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In 1931 Virginia Woolf gave a talk to the London branch of the National Society for Women’s Service. In it she proclaimed that the first thing she had…
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Twenty-five years ago on Prince William Sound, Alaska, I paddled a sea kayak over an enormous forest. I looked into deep green water and kelp, the size…
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I went for a walk on Saturday. It was miles from home. The starting point a spot in the bush in the far south of Tasmania. I was unprepared. I had on…
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The morning was still and blue and clear and the sun had softened the frost and the leaves were golden on the green lawn. Weather is coming. The radio…
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